EDIT (09/11/18): A very old and primitive/simple piece of mine. There is no longer any sequel in the works.
A/N: G-Senjou no Maou was actually one of my first few Visual Novels, and the very first VN (or ANY OTHER literary work) to make me shed tears for the characters. When I finished that final irreplaceable Epilogue of the story, I knew I just HAD to write more. Something, anything, just WRITE. And so I did.
I've had this little one-shot all wrapped up and ready to go for a while now, and when I finally thought about posting it, I realized there was no 'G-Senjou' fanbase here. :( So here I am... in the Misc. section... feeling lonely... TT_TT
Enough blabbing from my part, though... let's jump right into this thing!
Oh... and by the way, if you've never read 'G-Senjou no Maou' and somehow wound up reading this... GO READ IT. NOW. (Yay, free advertising!)
An Epilogue to the Epilogue
"As long as we live and breathe, our way is paved with ice.
A person's life is not comprised of four repeating seasons, but a year-long winter wilderness.
Whether or not you stop to wipe your blood or tears, they will inevitably freeze over––"
~Samejima Kyousuke.
Our silent footsteps echoed in the wide room. My eyes wandered lazily across the sofas spread across the lounge and the Grand Piano resting on its small podium, until they reached the numerous cased violins laid neatly along with their maintenance equipment.
"You've finally had your big break in these past few years." I commented to my lover, who was busy bolting the door upon our arrival.
"Y–Yeah" Haru's voice was shaking a bit, and its cracking signified that she was on the verge of tears. It was understandable though, I too was sobbing my ass off just an hour ago.
I stood still where I was, my legs – accustomed as they were to life in prison – felt unsure whether or not to intrude upon the lovely home.
"I…I'll make you some coffee." She whispered, hiding her face as she made her way to the kitchen. I gave a halfhearted nod to her unseeing back.
I was worried.
…Worried about Haru.
After all, it had been eight years since we last met. Though she still claimed I was the only one for her, did she really feel that way? Or was she just doing it for Kiyomi, our lovely 7 year old daughter whom I was oblivious of until today. Haru hadn't said a second word to me as we'd drove back from Kiyomi's elementary. Not a word when she'd guided me to this new Western-style house of hers. Was she angry at me? Scared maybe?
I shook the disturbing thought away for a while, deciding to decipher her mind's encryption on a later date.
Ignoring the many fancy sofas lining the room, I chose to recline on the floor. A remote sat contently on the little table to my right; I picked up the device and slightly smiled at our reunion. How long had it been since I last touched something with an ounce of technology? I turned on the TV without a second thought, and was greeted by the hot new topic: my own face fresh out of prison.
That's right: Samejima, Kyousuke – the man who killed his own brother, who manipulated his girlfriend to attempt murder; the man who was the son of a murderer, and the brother of a terrorist. That very man was being released from jail, after a mighty 7 long years of imprisonment. He was being stormed by endless crowds of media.
My memory of the scene triggered, and I went back to the dusty exit of the high security jail: The place where I had been just a couple of hours ago.
-Otō-san. The word still rang in my ears, and little girl who'd spoken it looked hazy through the pools of water coming from my eyes.
"Otō-san, let's go home!" Kiyomi said with a happy voice. Her expression told me she'd rehearsed the line many times, and was happy to finally put it to use. My fingers involuntarily stroked her hazel hair.
Why…
Why was this girl – this beautiful angel – born from the loins of a demon? The daughter of a murderer, the grand-daughter of a murderer…was she to be cursed to a life in living Hell as well?
No, was the answer, she shouldn't have to…
This child was better off without me, Haru too. I'm sure she understood that more than anyone. She knew that a musical celebrity like her had better give up on a silly game of love with an ex–con. The silly game that we started almost twenty years ago…
Yes. That was my decision. I must freeze my heart over once more and shun these feelings. For the ones I love, I will stop loving.
I do not love Usami Haru.
I must repeat these words…
This child is not mine.
…until my mind labels them as the truth…
I'm better off alone.
…until I can finally turn away.
"Ky-Kyousuke…kun?" Haru had a worried look on her face, sensing the trouble.
"Otō-san, Otō-san! Lift me up!" The child stuck to my legs like glue, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Okā-san always lifts me up. Can you lift me up?" Her wide scarlet eyes looked exactly like her mothers, weakening my resolve. She lifted her arms up at me to be lifted, releasing her grasp on my leg in the process.
This was it. This was my chance. Turn away from her and her mother. Turn away and never look back. I ordered myself to move. My joints obeyed, but they were the wrong ones performing the wrong motion.
"Otōōō-saaan… Lift me up! Not stooping, lifting." She pouted as I knelt next to her. The words 'Otō-san' kept ringing in my ears, drowning out everything else.
"You're both…just as attention seeking. Like mother like daughter, right?...Kiy-Kiyomi." I choked out the words as I embraced her; as I embraced my child.
I don't care anymore.
My mind drifted back the timeline to my ever-distant thoughts on that February night. "A father is a father, and a daughter is a daughter."
Was it too late for me to cling to those words–out of context as they were…? Could I not be selfish for once? For the sake of this child who had unconditionally believed in her father her entire life, without seeing him once. Or maybe for the sake of this woman who joins us in our embrace, the very woman whose future I placed well above my own countless times. Tell me, Kami-sama. Can't I be selfish…for love?
"Kyousuke-kun…" Haru whispered to me, her head now resting on my shoulder as the three of us confirmed the other's existence in front of the prison gates. "I…"
Haru's words were left unheard as the sound of screeching cars reached our ears. One? Two? No, there were probably more. Judging the volume of the noise, they were half a minute away. I had a certain sour idea of who they might be.
Haru – as insightful as ever – took little time to shake off her tears and compose herself; I followed her example. By the time the upcoming swarm of cameras reached us we were nonchalantly walking along the paved street. The charade came to a close as they cornered us like an angry mob.
"Samejima-san, could you answer a few questions for us please?"
"They say the warden was allowing forbidden communication to enter the prison, what can you add to that statement?"
"What do you feel about your father's incomplete cremation? Are you planning any forms of retribution?"
Piss off.
I silently stared at them, waiting for them to make way. The anchors – either not noticing my death glares or outright ignoring them – stayed rooted to the spot. I stayed silent for another dozen questions, signaling my dissatisfaction. They left me alone but still enclosed my route, choosing instead to compromise on their objective.
"Mishima Haruna-san!" They called Haru by her alias, "Are you by any chance affiliated with Samejima Kyousuke-san?"
"What is your relationship with this man?"
"Surely a well-known entertainer like your self has kept better connections."
Those little…!
"SHE-"
SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME!
I'm sure the media will understand a simple lie like that. They'll probably pass all this off as an unfortunate coincidental meeting. Something along those lines… anything and everything which will keep from tarnishing Mishima Haruna's World-wide reputation.
But…
But Haru's hand – warm despite the merciless weather – felt like a haven in a sea of monsters. It'd been less than fifteen minutes since our reunion. And yet I was already intoxicated by the sweet smell of her long hair; already addicted to her warm, loving gaze; and already head over heels in love with our daughter.
Screw you, Samejima Kyouhei – Maou. You want Haru and me to go through the Hell you've spent your life in. You know what I'll do in return, brother? I…
I, Samejima Kyousuke, will turn that Hell into Heaven by my own two hands…
"…She's my fiancé." I proclaimed with utmost confidence.
…after all, I already have two angels on my side; the odds seem to be in my favor, Maou.
I sneaked a gaze at Haru while the reporters were busy making a fuss on my statement.
"Is this true Mishima Haruna-san?"
"How long has this been going on?"
"You knew each other before his imprisonment?"
"Are you really engaged?"
For one frightening second, I imagined Haru suddenly rejecting my claim. I imagined her denying my proposal with hateful eyes. The second passed, and Haru's face blushed beet red. She looked away from the cameras. That was plenty an answer for all of us.
I couldn't help but smirk a bit at this turn of events. I pictured Horibe's reaction: 'That's one Hell ov' a marriage proposal there, botchan.'
Haru's small hand squeezed mine, dragging me back to reality.
"Impossible! That child…is she your…" One of the anchors questioned. Kiyomi stuck to my side, knowing full well that this wasn't the time to talk. She's definitely her mother's daughter…
The anchors became disheveled once more upon the shocking news (Tell me about it…I didn't know till this morning.) We all ignored the ruckus, patiently waiting for them to get the fuck out of our way.
From the corner of my field of view, I saw a journalist muttering quietly while scribbling on a notepad. He caught my attention because I'd heard my name uttered in an insulting tone. The next murmurs I heard were enough to make my blood boil out of its arteries.
"A family occupation, heeh? …first it was Toshikatsu…then it was Kyousuke … next it'll be…"
…
YOU BASTAR–!
Grab
Kiyomi hugged my arm before it could move to deliver an upper-cut. She was standing closer to the journalist than I was. Had this girl heard him? Did she know what I was about to do? Did she realize why?
"Let us pass, please." Kiyomi whispered to the reporters in a cute formal voice, "We just got Otō-san back. So… Please let us be!" She did a little bow.
"That's right." Haru joined in, polite but determined, "Surely you can understand our unease? Make way for us if you will be kind enough to."
Apparently, Mishima Haruna's rare display of displeasure was enough to shake up the reporters. A hand-full of squabbles, a few more unanswered questions, and they dissipated to the background.
Without a moment of delay, I seated Kiyomi up on my shoulders and walked hand in hand with the woman once known as the daughter of Usami.
Who did she act like with me, I wonder? With Kiyomi? Did Usami Haru even exist anymore? Or had she been totally consumed by Mishima Haruna?
Was that a good thing…or not?
My thoughts were laid to waste as two slender arms snaked around my abdomen, pulling my back to embrace a soft torso. A surprised gasp escaped my lips.
"I…" Haru whispered to me from behind, her voice on the verge of cracking. She rested her cheek on my back. The tenderness of her touch – deprived from me for 8 long years – felt alien. "I…missed you."
Warmth reached the contours of my frozen heart. Usami Haru. She was and will always be, my Usami Haru.
"I missed you too." I answered softly, "The days were slow without your weirdness." I teased.
Haru just nodded. A gesture akin to "That's right." Despite her apparent verbal lack of emotion, her grip on me tightened.
"But damn, you still didn't cut your hair?" I let out a little chuckle. "It's alright, though. I have shorter hair now so…I guess it balances out?" I laughed again at my lack of understanding of my own judgment.
I could feel tears dampening my shirt.
"Really now, how'd you go around with hair like that. Didn't it come in the way or something? You were raising a child after all." I paused awkwardly at the mention of Kiyomi. "You…did a wonderful job, you know. From now on, we can do it togeth–"
"STOP!" Haru yelled, half deafening me. "PLEASE STOP, KYOUSUKE-KUN!" She gripped at my shirt until her knuckles turned white. I rose my hands to hers, trying to comfort her sudden exclamation. Why was she angry? "Please…please…just…stop." She sobbed.
"Ha-Haru?" I asked, a loss for words. Had I gone too far to assume my share in Kiyomi's future? Was I enforcing myself on her? "You okay?" I asked in a concerned voice. "Usami, are you feeling…well?" I used polite speech, trying to distance our verbal intimacy. Maybe that's what was…
"Stop. Stop. Stop…" She kept on repeating, her tears now flowing like a fresh river. She started shaking her head with each repetition of the word.
"I'm sorry! Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!" I started reciting the not-so-holy words to calm her down; trying to do whatever it was she wanted me to do.
Her jerking came to a stop. "You're…sorry?" She whispered in a sad voice. "You're doing it again, Kyousuke-kun. You're making it worse."
I didn't understand. What was she…?
"Stop… being so nice to me." She murmured as her sobs slowly lessened to nonexistence. "Stop trying to forgive me. Be angry, Kyousuke-kun. I don't deserve…"
Ah… So THAT's what this is about.
"Idiot." I replied with a sigh, letting go of my grip on her hands, "Don't be so full of yourself. I never forgave you for anything,"
"You…never…" Haru repeated, as if to burn the cruel words to her memory. Her grip on me loosened, and she started shaking slightly.
"There was nothing to forgive." I finished with a smile. So all these years, this was what Haru was so worried about. Cute.
"Wh-What!?" Haru asked in an aggravated voice, denying my claim. Her hug tightened once more.
"You did nothing wrong, Haru." I repeated, "There was nothing to forgive."
"THAT'S A LIE!" She yelled again. "A LIE!"
"I'm not lying." I replied earnestly.
"N-No. Kyousuke-kun was…in jail…Kyousuke-kun was gone! It was my fault. It should have been me!" Her voice rose with each passing word.
"Haru…" I started, feeling guilty for making her worry this much.
"K-Kiyomi…missed you too. You were never there for her." She interrupted. Her words sliced gashes through my conscience. "She needed you…but you never came. BECAUSE OF ME, KYOUSUKE-KUN!"
"Haru-" I tried again with an impatient voice.
"I made you go through all that. I made Kiyomi go through it. I caused all of this. Be angry, Kyousuke-kun! You should-"
"HARU!" I yelled, now at the edge of my tolerance. "Stop this now…Haru."
Haru winced; bracing herself for the fury she had convinced herself was to be her punishment. I begged to differ.
"I love you, Haru." I informed her for the first time, letting the words linger in my lips. Savoring the sentence I had never said to her out loud. "So don't act this way again. I don't want to see you like this." I let my concern and anger mix into my words, trying to speak to my lover's broken soul. "I killed Kyouhei. Understand? ME, not you." I reasoned, "I chased him down. I shot him. You–Did–Nothing."
"B-But I-"
"You said it yourself: Let's start from the beginning, Haru. We should leave Maou in Hell; where he belongs."
She responded with piercing silence.
Dislodging her arms from my body, I stood up from the cold, tiled floor. I cleared my throat, trying to separate my coming words from the embarrassing monologue I'd just had. "So…how about that coffee?"
I looked back at Haru, still sitting motionless on the ground. She pointed slowly at a round center table next to me. The motion was odd: Zombie-like, even. Nodding to her directions, I sat down on the sofa and sipped my now-cold coffee. My eyes unseeingly gazed at the T.V. – which had now moved on from news related to myself – as I thought about out argument-esque conversation.
Haru wordlessly rose from her place during the commercials and sluggishly made her way out of the room, stricken by strife. I chose not to follow; leaving her to her own devices as I silently monitored the new boom of the Shiratouri Corp.
It wasn't until another hour that I hear her footsteps again. A soft tip-tap was heading my way from another room. I ignored it though, choosing to give Haru some space. Plus…I was already 5 minutes into the latest stock report. My mind registered some minute noise coming from some ways away – something like the hinges of an opening chest. I buried it to the back of my mind, concentrating on the Sanno Corp.'s plummeting shares.
–Until I heard her play.
The melodious sound of a violin – unfamiliar to me after these long years of isolation – resonated all around the walls of the room. My favorite song – one I had all but forgotten the notes of – was intensified by the player.
G-Senjou no Aria.
Haru was playing G-Senjou no Aria…
…with the most beautiful smile etched onto her face.
A/N: Cute? Not? Stupid? Crappy? Shameful? Disgus- Alright let's stop with the negative remarks now... But seriously, do review and all! (Y'know... the 4 people that have actually read G-Senjou and know WTH I was writing about) Constructive criticism is what drives me...
Side note: another one of the reasons I delayed posting this thing was because I'd written around half the dialogue in (broken) Japanese... (just helps with the feel, you know what I mean?) And so I had to go through the annoying process of switching exact Japanese words with not-so-perfect English ones... sigh, gotta do what you gotta do, I suppose.
Hope you've had a good time with me!
~ScarletDrizzle